Merlot
by L'Archel-Hotishi
Summary: Gerita.  After deciding to go out for an innocent drink, Germany ends up spending the evening with a completely intoxicated Veneziano...and interesting things are said and done.  Fluff.


Title: Merlot

Pairing: Veneziano x Ludwig. Wahooo!

Rating: K (For fluff and some very, _very _light, almost nonexistent lime)

Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine, and I don't claim ownership of the characters.

Author's Note: What…I've been on here so long and I've never done a Hetalia fanfic?

Well, I hope you enjoy, because I'm going to be writing a lot. Feel free to flame my writing, but please don't insult the pairing itself. Enjoy!

**-START-**

"Hey, Italy…you should head home now. You look exhausted."

"Ve…but I want to go back to Germany's house and spend the night," a rosy-cheeked Italy retorted, throwing his arms around the blonde man's shoulders and cooing. Germany turned bright red and forced Italy off of his body and onto the ground, still drenched from the rain that occurred before sundown.

"N-Nein, get off of me!" he ordered firmly, watching as the man sank further onto the ground. Within a few seconds he was laying completely on his back and softly snoring in the middle of the sidewalk.

Germany stared down at the drunken nation below him and slammed a hand to his face. He knew taking Italy out for a drink would be an interesting experience but he never intended for the results to be so severe.

_ Germany grabbed a long, black coat from his closet and pulled it over his strong arms which, without a doubt, attracted the eyes of a nearby and always lurking Italy. "Where are you going so late at night Germany?" the man asked in his adorable Italian accent. The blue-eyed man pulled on a cap and shrugged his shoulders in uncertainty._

"_I was going to go out for a drink."_

"_Oh, let me go with you!" Italy begged sweetly, his squinty eyes staring up at him. "I've never had German beer before. It sounds pretty scary, but also kind of cool, just like you."_

_Unable to turn his friend down, the man opened the door for the nation and lightly shoved him outside. "I warn you, you may not like it," he said with a slight smile, something so rare that Italy actually did a double-take to make sure it was really there. "It's pretty strong."_

"_It's okay!" he exclaimed happily, throwing his arms up in the air and running ahead of Ludwig. "I've have Britain's scones before, and nothing in the world could possibly taste worse than them!"_

_Germany had to chuckle at those words. It was so true._

"_Don't worry, I'll be fine. I promise," he assured, spinning around in circles happily. "So, is it a date?"_

"_Yes…alright Italy. Just don't drink too much. I'm not going to carry you home if you get drunk. And don't flirt with all the women either, it's a pain," he reminded him, shaking a finger at Veneziano sternly._

"_Alright, sir! I won't disappoint you!"_

That was three hours ago and, in all fairness, Italy hadn't had a lot of beer.

Two cups, to be exact.

Veneziano was apparently the worst lightweight on the planet and was already too drunk to walk. "This is so pathetic…how in the world am I going to get him home? I'd call Japan, but…" he thought silently when a hand came up and lightly tugged on his sleeve.

Italy was now shivering from the coldness of the ground. "G-Germany…could you c-c-carry me h-h-home…?" the brown-haired nation asked in a near whisper, his voice almost slurred beyond comprehension. One fist was balled in front of his lips, his knuckles turning a stark white color. The man was obviously freezing, but Germany kept telling himself to leave the man alone.

After all, with Italy so vulnerable, he may not have been able to help himself.

"I told you I wouldn't do that! Here, I'll call a taxi," he muttered, his face slowly turning a soft shade or cherry red. He was about to hold out his arm to hail a cab when it suddenly dawned on him that they'd spent all their money on drinks. It wasn't much money, granted, but now it looked like Germany had to break the promise he'd made to himself.

Italy visibly struggled to stand, his limbs rattling violently, but he was simply too weak to walk. "G-Germany…h-h-help…"

Germany happened to turn around just in time to catch the smaller nation before he hit the ground.

"I-Italy…!" he gasped, feeling the warmth of the young man's body in his arms. Germany turned him over to further examine his body, noticing a small scrape on his hand, but no other injuries. As he cradled Italy on the sidewalk, he smiled up at the blue-eyed man and grasped his gloved hand in thanks. "W-What is it?" the German asked, blushing lightly at the soft touch.

"Thank you Germany…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to burden you…but I'm so cute, you'll forgive me, right?" he asked, his head rolling over his shoulder. He was clearly about to drift off to sleep again. Although Germany was a little peeved by how lightly Italy was taking the incident, he still felt happiness well up inside of him.

"Yes…I'll forgive you…" he said gently as he swept Italy into the air and held him bridal style against his chest. "I have no choice, I'll take you back to my place, okay? You can leave from there in the morning…"

Italy watched Germany's face for any signs of regret or anger. When he saw none, the green-eyed man wrapped his arms around Germany and cuddled into the crook of his neck. Veneziano smiled gaily and purred in delight as Ludwig's hands supported him with such care, like he was a brittle piece of glass ready to shatter with any sudden movement. "Ve…you really are nice Germany…maybe next time I can bring my big brother Romano, and we can all have a drink together!"

"Please don't push it, Italy."

XOXOXOXOXO

Germany laid the smaller nation out on his bed, his body damp from sweat and faint with exhaustion. The young man looked light, but all that damned pasta he ate night and day had almost caused Germany a hernia while carrying him home.

He sighed and removed his coat, gloves, trousers and cap before walking into the bathroom to prepare for bed. He stood before the bathroom mirror and began to rinse the gel from his hair, causing his scruffy blond locks to fall over his eyes. He quickly shaved his face and washed it with a bar of mint-scented soap, trying to take as long as possible.

He had hoped to keep himself distracted while Italy was there, just to make sure things didn't become awkward between the two. After all…he'd already told Italy that he'd loved him. England had tried to bring down his companion's morale, but it only resulted in him confessing to the pasta-loving man.

Since then, they really hadn't talked about it. It drove him crazy, but if Italy didn't love him back, why should he care? Germany was supposed to be a strong and sturdy nation. He couldn't show his sadness over something so trivial. It was weak.

"Yes…and I'm not weak," he told himself quietly. "But…maybe…with Italy…I could…"

"**GERMAAAAANY, GERMANY?**"

The shrill call almost made the blonde-haired nation shoot through the bathroom ceiling. Startled, he turned to see Italy crouched over in the doorway, hand massaging his temple. He was obviously suffering from a cruel, alcohol induced headache. "You already have a hangover?" Germany asked in disbelief. "But we just got in…there's no way…"

"Germany…I feel really dizzy and cold…when you come to bed, could you bring another blanket…and I trash bin in case I need to throw up…" he moaned, cheeks turning a swampy green color. Germany's face bleached and he shrank back.

"J-Just go to bed! And don't you dare throw up before I get there," he threatened, a little disgusted by his friend's statement. After hearing a speech about how Germany was in no mood to do laundry, Italy nodded weakly and crawled back to bed, pulling covers over his chin and moaning softly in pain. Germany sucked in his breath and stepped out of the bathroom. He closed the door slowly and turned off the lights in a perfunctory and lifeless manner.

Germany reached out a hand to feel the edge of the bed in the darkness and slide under the covers. It was right then and there that Germany realized just how small his bed was, because as he turned on his side to go to sleep, he could feel Italy's head start to slouch against his chest.

"Why are you so close? Move over," the blonde nation commanded.

"I can't…I'm already almost on the edge of the bed…you should really buy a bigger bed, Germany. How do you bring girls home and have them sleep in this thing?" he asked, which in return, got him a swift whack between the eyes.

"…Fine. Just go to sleep…"

"Yes, sir!" Italy said, the smell of alcohol on his breath causing Germany to flush the color of a ripened guava. He nuzzled deeper into the pillows and put his hand on Ludwig's chest. "Funny, by morning, I'll probably have forgotten this whole thing, you know?" he said with a laugh. Germany blinked and slowly turned his head towards Italy's. Because of the bed's small size, the tips of their noses touched and their lips were only millimeters apart when they dared face one another.

"Forget…everything…." Germany mumbled, staring at Veneziano's reddened mouth.

His mind was ambushed by a sweet memory.

"_Lies," Germany said, head turned away. "They're not true. Actually…"_

"That's what Japan told me. After a hangover, you don't remember anything! Too bad…I kinda enjoyed our time together…"

Ludwig pursed his lips together and found himself wrapping his muscular arms around Italy's scrawny body. "Hey…if that's the case…I need to get something off my chest. Just don't laugh."

"Ve…I'll try. But I'm drunk, remember, you shouldn't try to make any promises with me-" he rambled on before Germany pressed his lips against his, his large body holding Italy as close as possible.

"_Ich liebe dich."_

At first, Veneziano had no idea what and happened. He thought that perhaps the alcohol was making him hallucinate, and that's what was causing this all too realistic dream.

After all, the kiss only last a few seconds, before Germany rolled over and faced the wall. If he would have blinked, the kiss would have probably even passed without his knowledge. Still, with Germany, a small kiss was more than he ever expected.

If the nation wasn't so shocked, he probably would have kissed back.

Italy lightly placed his fingers on his lips and leaned over the blonde man, shaking his shoulder with a force that indicated both confusion and urgency. "G-Germany…d-did you just…?"

"I told you that I loved you…remember…after Britain told you that I hated my alliance with you?"

He did. He could only sit and stare at his friend in awe, tears almost coming to his eyes. It wasn't the most heartfelt confession, but to Italy, it was more than enough. "G-Germany…thank…thank…."

"Hm?" he asked, casting a handsome glace over his shoulder. "What did you say? If that was laughter, I might have to kill you." Through the darkness, it was clear Germany was beaming, despite the threat. Italy gasped in happiness and shook his head back and forth frantically.

"I'm fine…but…you didn't bring that extra blanket, did you?" he asked sheepishly. He could hear the blonde man groan and slam his palm into his face.

"S-Sorry, I'll get one right now…" he said when, as he rose from the bed, Italy pulled the man back on top of him with an enormous amount of force that the German didn't know even existed within his partner's small body. "What…what the hell are you doing…?" he asked, trying to keep his voice harsh and controlled. When Germany did speak, however, it shook from arousal, causing him to bite his tongue and blush in humiliation. Needless to say, Italy didn't mind this open display of cuteness.

Hands cupped behind Germany's neck, he pulled him into an embrace and pressed his cheek against the blonde man's chest. "If you're close to me, I won't be cold. Do you mind…?"

"N-No," he squawked, unable to refuse something so cute.

Italy told Germany he was glad and, as Ludwig slowly sank down onto the nation and began to dot kisses along his collarbone hungrily, all hesitation being wiped from his mind.

"Hey, Germany…I love you too. Not just as an ally, you know?"

"…Yeah," he said gently, slipping his hand under Italy's pajama shirt and running his fingers along the man's soft skin. Italy moaned and molded his body with Germany, both men connecting their lips in another limb-searing kiss. Their hips bucked together, bulging crotches causing a hot friction between their bodies. "I know."

**-END-**

I planned on the ending being a little more subtle than this…but I felt like this was already overly subtle, especially for me…haha!

Well, hope you all enjoyed! If enough people like this, I'll probably write more. R&R, and if you didn't like something, flame to your hearts' content.


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